Friday, January 7, 2011

Trying To Make Sense Of It All: A Difficult Task, To Say The Least...

I can only imagine what it must have been like growing up without a mom, especially when there were seven kids for your dad to raise. Knowing as little as I do about my dad's side of the family makes it impossible for me to even hazard a guess. Grandpa raised Dad as a Jehovah's Witness, a shocking revelation considering that we celebrated every holiday under the sun. It did explain, however, why it was so easy for him to completely lose interest in those same holidays as we kids got older.

He loved animals and little kids only. I eventually realized that those are the only two life forms that will follow in blind obedience, never questioning morals, motives, facts, or other such nuisances. When I refused to stand idly by, when I refused to allow him to terrorize us unchallenged any longer, I was dead to him. Oh well...better to be dead to him than dead by him.

He used to ride his tricycle up and down the sidewalks, going from house to house, stealing the milk money out of the bottles. One day he was still pedaling when he realized he wasn't going anywhere. Grandpa had caught his son in the act and lifted him off of his tricycle by the collar of his shirt. He took him back to every single house he had stolen the money from and made him give it back. Then he took my dad home and threw him against a few walls.

There were other things I would learn over time. Dad hated religious people in general. They were all hypocrites in his eyes. One of his brothers and his wife were very religious, and very judgmental. They clucked their tongues and shook their heads, commenting on how sinful other people were while he puffed on his cigar. The obvious irony of the situation is what disgusted my dad...they were so eager to point fingers at everybody else, completely ignoring the fact that they were just as sinful themselves. 

A man in my dad's neighborhood had some puppies he wanted to get rid of. He was going to kill them unless someone took them off his hands. Dad ran all the way home and wasted precious time begging his brother to let him have a puppy. His brother finally gave in. Dad ran all the way back and got there just in time to see the man kill it with an axe. The puppy jerked and twitched. Dad collapsed to the ground and just laid there, crying. It was a long time before he was able to get up again.

He dropped out of school after eighth grade and was given two choices by Grandpa; get a job or go into the service. Dad eventually wound up going into the Army. He served in the Korean War and drove an amphibious vehicle called a 'duck'. While in the service, Dad and some of the other guys got really drunk one night. They drove Dad out into the middle of nowhere and left him for dead. He almost did die that night. 

Although there were very few pieces to the puzzle, it was enough to understand how certain things can cause the mind to unravel over time. Despite the fact that it did explain things, it was still no excuse for them. I wasn't about to feel pity for him; but I empathized with him. It didn't sound like he got to be much of a child himself.

It's easy to see why a child can be so torn. How could I still love somebody that hurt me so viciously and so much? Dad went out of his way to abandon me and push me away from him. I so desperately needed him to love me, be proud of me and accept me as his daughter. I needed to feel safe around him, to trust him. I needed to run to him and see the joy on his face as he swooped me up into his arms...

As soon as I heard his car pull into the driveway, I flooded with dread...especially if I was alone. Fear crawled it's icy fingers along my spine. I'd run full out for my bedroom, slam the door shut and frantically lock it as securely as I could. Then I'd curl up in a ball on my bed and keep as still and quiet as if someone had just broken into the house. It totally sucked.

I'm still trying to figure out what in the hell my purpose is supposed to be in life...why in the hell I was forced to endure such horrific things. It would be different if any of my dreams or goals had come true; love, marriage, children, a decent life. I have nothing but my nightmares to keep me company and bitter loneliness to cry myself to sleep with every night. I am fast becoming obsolete. I never dreamed my loveless childhood would become a loveless life. People have told me my whole life that things will get better...the Bastards lied.

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